Job 30:23

JOB suffered from a terrible sickness which filled him with pain both day and night. It is supposed that, in addition to his grievous eruptions upon the skin, he endured great difficulty in breathing. He says in the 18th verse, "By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: it binds me about as the collar of my coat." His clothes were soiled and clung to him. His skin was blackened and seemed to be tightened. He was like a man whose tunic strangles him—the collar of his garment seemed to be fast bound about his throat. Those who have suffered from it, know what distress is occasioned by this complaint, especially when they are also compelled to cry, "My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest." At such a time Job thought of death and, surely, if at any period in our lives we should consider our latter end, it is when the frail tent of our body begins to tremble because the cords are loosened and the curtain is torn! It is the general custom with sick people to talk about "getting well" and those who visit them, even when they are gracious people, will see the tokens of death upon them and yet will speak as if they were hopeful of their recovery. I remember a father asking me when I prayed with a consumptive girl to be sure not to mention death. In such cases it would be far more sensible for the sick man to turn his thoughts towards eternity and stand prepared for the great change. When our God, by our affliction, calls upon us to number our days, let us not refuse to do so! I admire the wisdom of Job, that he does not shirk the subject of death, but dwells upon it as an appropriate topic, saying, "I know that You will bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living." Yet Job made a mistake in the hasty conclusion which he drew from his grievous affliction.

Thou wilt bring me to death - This must be the issue of my present affliction: to God alone it is possible that I should survive it. To the house appointed for all living - Or to the house, מועד moed, the rendezvous, the place of general assembly of human beings: the great devourer in whose jaws all that have lived, now live, and shall live, must necessarily meet. “ - O great man-eater! Whose every day is carnival; not sated yet! Unheard of epicure! without a fellow! The veriest gluttons do not always cram! Some intervals of abstinence are sought To edge the appetite: thou seekest none. Methinks the countless swarms thou hast devour’d, And thousands that each hour thou gobblest up, This, less than this, might gorge thee to the full. But O! rapacious still, thou gap’st for more, Like one, whole days defrauded of his meals, On whom lank hunger lays her skinny hand, And whets to keenest eagerness his cravings; As if diseases, massacres, and poisons, Famine, and war, were not thy caterers.” The Grave.